


a ghostly gathering

by kakashihatake123



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12545144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakashihatake123/pseuds/kakashihatake123
Summary: She hummed happily, swaying in his arms. She was drunk on the music and the drink and the atmosphere, but the most intoxicating of it all was his touch. “We’ll have to try very, very hand to win that competition.”Jon smiled and kissed her, his lips tasting of the sweet cinnamon syrup that had filled his mulled wind. “With you. I’m up for the challenge.”costumes //  written for jonxsansafanfiction’sAll Hallow’s Week Celebration





	a ghostly gathering

The Stark family had always had a great interest in all things Halloween. From the time Sansa was a child she could remember her mother and father excitingly draping the house in fake cobwebs and plastic ghosts. Catelyn always took great pleasure in baking some great pumpkin treat- her favourite was pumpkin bread and cinnamon butter- and her father loved to eat them. They had even taken to planning some elaborate family costumes, from the members of the Scooby Gang to the Addam’s Family. It was a time of year they all loved.

And luckily for them, even as the Stark kids grew up their love for Halloween did not fade.

In the living room Arya Stark was circling Sansa and Jon, scrutinizing their potential costume before deciding if it was good enough to be worn in attendance to Loras Tyrell’s annual Hallow’s Eve party, a massive, raging blowout.

“I still think you should have been Han and Leia.” said Arya, frowning. “The theme for the party is famous movie couples isn’t it? Who else is more famous?”

“Because I’m sure everyone and their mother is going to show up dressed as Han and Leia. I want to try and make an impression.” Sansa said. “And after what happened last year I want it to be a good impression.”

They both remembered Loras’ anger after they had arrived at the Halloween party the previous year dressed as Clark Kent and Lois Lane, only to find out that they were supposed to be in keeping with the Victorian theme- as everyone else had been. It had been printed clearly on the invitation, as Loras’ party planner (and cousin) Luthor had angrily told them, commenting that they stuck out sorely; brightly dressed in the sea of pastel Victorian gowns and silk cravats

Arya laughed. “I forgot about that. What were you two again?”

“Superman and Lois Lane.” she responded.

At the kitchen table Gendry nodded, his voice muffled by the crunch of the cereal he was eating. “‘S’ not bad. Fits you two well.”

“That’s what I said.” said Sansa. “But according to Loras we were ‘so basic that we should have been marketed as a plain white undershirt.’”

“So...” Gendry began, getting up from the kitchen table and walking toward them. “This...is what you chose?”

“What?” said Sansa, looking down at herself. “We’re Marty and Doc from Back to the Future...Can’t you tell?”

“You look good.” said Gendry quickly. “But they’re not exactly a couple.”

“Well they’re a couple, like a couple of people. One, two, people.” said she. She frowned. “Maybe we should change. After last year I’m not taking the chance of misinterpreting the invite.”

Half an hour later Sansa had assembled two more costumes and had dressed them both, leaving them standing back where they had started, standing above a giant rubber spider and wavering under Arya’s scrutiny. “This is worse.” she said finally, after staring for a long moment. “Worse in every way.”

“Well I had to find a way to repurpose the wig.” Sansa snapped.

“Wayne’s World is a little old, innit?” Gendry asked. “You don’t want to spend the whole night having to explain your costume, do you?”

Sansa huffed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent rummaging through trunks and wardrobes, throwing together costumes. Jon was impressed with his girlfriend’s creativity. He would never had thought that wearing a nightgown and a pair of green trousers and a green shirt would make them Wendy and Peter Pan. And then, after that idea was vetoed, that the same nightgown dressed up with a pair of sandals and a baseball cap would make her Jenny and him Forrest Gump.

“I’m ready to quit.” said Sansa, lying on her back in their bed. The room looked as though it had been ransacked, clothes piled high on the chairs and the bed, spilling out of the closet in unorganized piles. “We should just stay home tonight.”

“Hush.” said Jon. He pushed aside a stack of old coats she had tried to repurpose into a wolf costume and lay beside her, feeling her exhale a long sigh and curl into his arms, her bare feet pressed against his shins, the smell of her sweet shampoo filling his nose.

“You’ve been talking about this party for a month.” he said calmly. Sansa called it his ‘dad voice.’ She said it was the voice her father always used when he was trying to calm Arya down before her fencing matches, or keep Sansa from worrying about her studies. “You always have fun and no matter what you wear you will look beautiful. Maybe we’re overthinking it.” He knew she certainly was, but he dare not say that to her now, lest all his dad-voice-induced-calmness be undone.

She paused for a moment. He could tell she was thinking, able to feel the rapid brush of her eyelashes against his bare forearm as she blinked. “You’re right. We probably are. Maybe we should just go basic.”

“How basic?”

“We could reuse our Superman and Lois Lane costumes from last year?”

Jon chuckled. “And risk the wrath of Loras and Renly again. Perhaps not.”

“The Jack and Wendy Torrence costumes?” she put forward. “I don’t think Arya and Gendry are going to use them.”

Jon considered it for a moment before something caught his eye. All of a sudden it became easy to put together a costume, getting up from the bed and digging through the wardrobe before smiling. “I’ve got one” he said triumphantly, pointing toward one of the piles he had set down at the foot of the bed. “Simple, pretty, creative.”

“Really?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. She quirked an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“Really.” Jon winked.

It took them under an hour to ready themselves and drive over to the massive Tyrell manse. From the moment they pulled passed the front gate Jon could see the hints of the party that was taking place within. A hundred faux gravestones had been lifted in the yard, complete with skeletal hands and faces and feet that stuck through the dirt like bodies crawling out of coffins. Ghosts hung from the branches of the trees, moving eerily in the wind like true specters.

Music thundered through the air, loud and ruckus in the otherwise quite night. Lights of green and purple and red shone through the chalky windows and flashed over them, and as they walked forward a waiter dressed as a zombie handed them each tall flutes of a bubbling green liquid.

“Wow.” Sansa marveled.

“It looks even better than last year.” admired Jon. “And I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s certainly easier to dress for.” said Sansa. The previous year the mansion had been decorated impeccably, so thoroughly embellished for the Victorian theme that once they had been ushered inside Sansa had barely recognized it as the same house. “Although...” she trailed off.

“There you are!” said Loras, appearing out of the throng of guests already filling the dance floor. Sansa recognized him instantly as Indiana Jones, complete with whip, fedora, and a surprisingly realistic golden monkey. “I was about to organize a search party.” Luthor looked them over reproachfully, no longer hiding his dislike of the costumes once Loras’ asked them to “Give us a spin, I want to see the full picture!”

Sansa did a small, embarrassed spin at his beckoning, worried he would not like what they had chosen. She tipped her head back and downed the drink in her hand. It caused her cheeks to itch and her nose to burn but the sour alcohol quickly did the trick and she was somewhat less able to feel Luthor’s eyes on her back.

“Mia Wallace and Vincent Vega!” said Garlan Tyrell, having appeared from the bar dressed as Hamlet- with Leonetten as Ophelia on his arm. “I love it.”

“You guys look great.” Loras grinned. Jon secretly breathed a sigh of relief at having gained the host’s stamp of approval. “Then again you always do. I swear you’re the best looking couple in this room tonight. Well, besides Renly and I.”

Sansa giggled, slipping her hand into Jon’s. Beside the Tyrell brothers Luthor gave a smirk, commenting that he also liked the costume before pointedly adding that it was: “Very in keeping with the theme.”

Awkwardness rippled between the group before Jon cleared his throat. “Well we wouldn’t want a repeat of last year’s lost invitation situation.” he said, attempting a joke to lighten the tension, comedically loosening the buckle of his bolo tie.

“Ren is going to be so pleased to see you.” Loras said. He waved his glass of Róse at another entering couple in place of a wave and promised to catch up with them later in the night before bidding them farewell, commenting over his shoulder that “the job of a host is never done!”

They made a few rounds of the party, greeting friends and neighbors and gorging themselves quite a bit on the Halloween themed fare. Jon even ate so many Dr. Frank-N-Furter hot dogs that he thought he might be sick. After a while they settled down and Jon took her hand. “Mrs. Mia Wallace, would you care to dance?”

“Vincent Vega offering to dance?” she said, giving a gasp of mock shock as he led her into the crowd of twisting bodies and grasping fingers. “It must be a special occasion.”

“Of course it is.” he grinned. “It’s my girlfriends favorite holiday. Maybe, if we try hard enough, we could win the Jack Rabbit Slim’s Annual Twist Contest.”

She hummed happily, swaying in his arms. She was drunk on the music and the drink and the atmosphere, but the most intoxicating of it all was his touch. “We’ll have to try very, very hand to win that competition.”

Jon smiled and kissed her, his lips tasting of the sweet cinnamon syrup that had filled his mulled wind. “With you. I’m up for the challenge.”


End file.
